Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“Rain check?” I appreciated Cameron befriending me, being willing to let me pick his brain, but first, I was broke. I had money but couldn’t really spend any of it on anything fun. Plus, I’d promised to video call with Mom and Bug this afternoon, and I was dead on my feet. I liked Cameron. I wanted to be friends with him. I needed more friends. I just didn’t have the time to have them. “I know I’ve said that once before. I really would like to hang out. Life is just…a lot at the moment.”
“No problem. I get it. Here, let me give you my cell phone number. If you’re ever hanging out on a weekend and feel like getting out of the house, you can let me know.”
“Great. I have my phone right here.” I pulled it out of the drawer, added his number, and texted him so he had mine.
He left after that, and I packed up my things and headed out too.
I was off from the coffeehouse today, which I definitely needed. I had papers to grade and relaxing to do.
The lot was nearly empty when I got to my car, but I noticed Cameron’s jeep was still there. He must have gone into his classroom instead of leaving.
I tossed my bag to the passenger seat, got in, and turned the key in the ignition. Strange noises sounded, popping and cracking. The engine came to life, but smoke immediately began coming out from under the hood. Nooooo. God no. I didn’t need this. I really fucking didn’t, and if it did happen, school was the last place I wanted to have to deal with it.
I immediately shut it off, hoping the plumes in the air would disperse quickly. What was I going to do if my car needed expensive repairs? Or if it fucking died altogether?
I banged my forehead against the steering wheel, chest heavy and gut churning. I was so incredibly fucked. How would I get to my jobs? How in the fuck was I supposed to do this without a vehicle?
I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. My forehead was still pressed to the wheel when there was a knock on my window. I shot my head up to see Cameron there. I lowered the window.
“Is everything okay?” There was real concern in his voice.
Thankfully, the smoke was gone. “Yeah, it’s fine. I just have a bit of a headache and remembered something I have to do. And I missed a call from my mom.” Lies. I was a lying liar who lied.
“Okay. You sure?”
No, no I’m not. I’m so fucked, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. “Yep. All good. Just going to call her back.” I held up my phone.
“Okay. Have a good one.” He gave me a smile, went to his vehicle, and left.
I waited close to an hour, until the lot was empty, then tried to start my car. It sputtered smoke…started…died. The third time it did the same. The fourth, it wouldn’t come on at all.
Panic clawed at my chest. My breathing picked up, this heavy weight on top of me that I wasn’t sure I could hold. I rubbed a hand over my face. “Calm down, Zander. You can do this. You’ve had bigger shit to worry about in your life. You’ll figure it out.” I always did. I figured everything out all the time.
Once some of the bouncing thoughts in my head cleared, I got on the phone and called a tow truck. It was fucking expensive and would cut into what I could send to my loans and credit cards. Or hell, maybe I should have put it on my card. I had to have a car, and I had to be able to help Mom and Molly.
It took them forty-five minutes to get there. I rode with them to a shop, where they told me they could check out my car and let me know the next day what was wrong with it, but I didn’t have high hopes.
The bus stop was close. I checked the schedule on my phone, but they didn’t have any more heading into Atlanta. I could call a car service, but that was expensive as fuck, so I just…started to walk, trying to figure out what to do.
And then, because the universe hated me, the sky opened up and rain pelted down on me. A stupid September storm that was hot but wet. “Fuck!” I shouted, my clothes and hair already soaked through. There was another bus stop up ahead, and the woman waiting there was looking at me, probably afraid I was crazy.
I ran over, thankful it was covered. “Sorry. Long day,” I said.
She nodded but kept her distance.
Eventually her bus came, she got on, and I sat there alone.